Missing Links
by paynesgrey
Summary: Among his problems with his memories and new powers, Nathan regrets not being a better brother to Peter. Season 4 spoilers for "Acceptance." Sylar!Nathan, Nathan x Peter. ONESHOT.


AN: Written for the "Voltaire quote" challenge at heroes contest on LJ. This is a one-shot and will not be continued. Spoilers for Season 4, "Acceptance."

Missing Links

His office feels like a tomb.

He stands in the middle of the room, rotating his hips, looking around, and yet seeing no gravestone. Nathan sees only things – things that feel like they really don't belong to him, yet this is his office, and those are the pictures of his family in the frames.

Something is wrong with him. His powers have grown from one simple thing such as flying to several others – electricity, telekinesis, and even stranger: healing. His mother refuses to hear him out.

"You're just like your father," she says to him when he worries. He doesn't realize how true that is, but something still doesn't fit. The puzzle pieces look like they fit, but if you pulled them apart, you see that they really don't – that they're being _forced._

The only one Nathan thinks can help him won't return his phone calls. His brother could explain this or maybe at least shed a little light. His powers are just like this… aren't they?

Nathan taps his chin and walks in front of his favorite picture of him and Peter in suits, right before they attended a function for Linderman and their dad. Nathan traces his finger over his brother's face, missing the long hair – missing the softness of his touch.

Deep inside him, however, he feels like he _should _miss it, yet eerily he longs for his brother beyond the advice he craves.

As his fingers leave the photo, he steps back and feels his mind snap. A memory bleeds before him, and he sees them in that party. It's not unusual, Nathan thinks, but the memory is so clear that he instantly notices it doesn't contain the decay of time.

"What the…?" He blinks, and he can almost taste the Merlot he sipped that very night, even though it was years ago.

Nathan licks his lips and realizes he _can_. Then he feels a wash of guilt submerge him: _I should have been a better brother. I should have loved him differently, not more or less._

His hands feel clammy now, and there's an indistinguishable taste of salt and copper in his mouth, the trace of wine becoming obscure like the actual memory.

Then, Nathan rushes over to his desk and picks up the phone, Peter's number already dialing as he blinks. "Peter, please, I need to speak to you."

He's never sounded so desperate, and he knows Peter will sense that. Peter knows that his brother, Nathan Petrelli, is not the sort to beg, not without the undertow of clandestine intentions.

Again, as he suspects, his brother does not pick up the phone during his message, and Nathan's harrowing plea will once again submit to the darkness and be stored away inside a mechanical box.

--

Like every night since four months ago, Nathan stares at his bed anxiously before he settles in for the night. He stands at the doorway, knowing the sheets are clean on the mattress. He has his housekeeper change them everyday, an obsessive compulsive tick he's sure made it to the local rags by now.

He doesn't care. In those sheets he sees things, no matter how clean they are. He knows the memories are locked away in the fibers of the bed frame, within the metal of the box spring and inside the cotton in his pillows.

The only reason he hasn't remodeled the bedroom and completely torn up the walls is because he's afraid he'll lose the memories completely, no matter how dark and salacious they are.

They hold many secrets within a spectrum of emotions, from lust to pure joy. Though just like the others, they don't feel they belong to him, but they feel so real that sometimes he goes to bed and wakes up dreaming, face down and believing he has a warm body underneath him.

Nathan approaches the bed, and his thoughts ache with suspense. He sleeps on his stomach and kisses the pillowcase underneath his lips.

His room is so cold and lonely, but within the memories it's not. Peter is there.

--

The next morning his mother comes to his office with a box of belongings. He looks at it wearily, not sure if he's prepared for the consequences once he touches these things.

He's almost frightened, but curiosity is ripe inside him, echoing loudly like a ticking clock.

His mother looks at him anxiously, and he picks up a toy and then a baseball cap. Everything changes.

--

His talk with Peter is unexpectedly civil. His brother has been avoiding his calls for some time, and even before that, they've barely seen each other while Peter delves himself into his job.

He hugs his brother tenderly, and when memories flood through him from the contact, Nathan steps back and tries to focus. His problems stem from these powers, not from what's rising up from below the surface – his past with his brother.

Even more that that, Nathan thinks he might have killed someone, and Kelly Houston's death is at the forefront of his mind.

Oddly enough, Peter accepts the news of his growing powers with ease, though Nathan is relieved and ready to accept the explanation of "running in the family." Peter's dark eyes tell him something differently, however.

_Like mother, like son,_ Nathan thinks to himself, quickly realizing how much Peter reminds him of their mother, even more so than ever before. His brother seems calm and content, with his emotional baggage of the past completely tamed. He appears to have found his niche in life, his peace with his powers, and his acceptance of the tainted ties to the Petrelli family.

Of course, Nathan does not doubt Peter's loving heart or his good intentions toward people. Lately, he's been noticing his own jealousy toward his brother's efforts, which his mother might attribute to another midlife crisis if he tells her.

However, something about Peter's regard toward his many powers seems to be off, but Nathan is too distressed to focus on it now. He has a more pressing issue to attend. If he's going to ever be able to understand the changes in his life and maybe find the redemption that he believes he deserves, he needs to set the things in his so-called memories right.

He has to close the case in Kelly's murder.

As he hugs his brother goodbye he wishes he could have spared another minute to make dinner plans. As he leaves Peter's workplace, Nathan feels an odd tightness in his chest – it's the absence of his brother's presence, and the soothing feeling Peter exudes toward him just by being in the same room.

Nathan frowns as feelings for his brother flood inside him, but his mind is a stubborn blockade. Not until he can resolve Kelly's death first can he go back to Peter and attempt to strengthen the weak bonds that are so obvious between them.

--

On his way to Millie's, he gets a call from Peter.

"Hey, I just got a free minute at work," Peter says. "I thought about your powers today, and I think I could use your help with something."

In Peter's voice, Nathan can almost feel that old closeness between them, before Nathan screwed everything up.

"What's on your mind, Pete?" Nathan says, and he tries not to sound too thrilled his brother is finally opening up to him.

"I get off work around eight today. How about I come over to the house and we can talk about this. Listen… I talked to Noah Bennet and he made me think about something that's been bothering me – and I think I could use your help."

Nathan swallows hard. He can almost guess where this is going. He thinks of his bed sheets, of the memories.

"Are you staying over?" he braves the question.

Peter laughs. There's something playful yet mischievous in his tone.

"It's been a long time," Peter says.

"I'm surprised, Pete. You made it explicitly clear in Coyote Sands that it's never going to happen again," Nathan says, and the flash of memory – a memory that still doesn't feel like his – floats around his brain.

(A kiss that tastes like sand and anger. A kiss that means good-bye.)

He expects anger from his little brother, but he notices bravado instead. His brother really is growing up and changing for the better. He likes it, and oddly enough, it entices him even with Kelly's specter looming over his head.

"Alright, Pete. You're on, and you're right," Nathan replies with a heavy sigh, and he knows his brother senses the longing. "It has been too long."

His car pulls up in Millie's driveway as Peter says good-bye. Nathan takes a deep sigh and his eyes draw in the magnificent scenery, the memories stirring around him already.

His conversation with Peter niggles in the back of his mind, but his focus is on Kelly. His nerves are on edge, and he knows he'll walk out of the door today changed – maybe redeemed.

Maybe he'll walk out of this house a man his brother can finally be proud of.

--

Nathan blows Peter's invitation off. He doesn't mean to. He's just sick from guilt, and he's so torn he doesn't even call him to leave a message. He's afraid his brother will pick up the phone and somehow change his mind.

He knows that he can, even with the sound of his voice.

So Nathan sits in his SUV, and the only thing he can bring himself to do is call the police.

_Peter would turn himself in,_ Nathan muses with an inward laugh. He can't get Millie's despair out of his head. Her anger, her tears – he doesn't even feel as relieved as he thought he would.

He hates to think that maybe his mother is right.

What's done is done, but he doesn't have the courage to stay on the line as the cops put him on hold.

Nathan rubs his eyes and sighs, and for once, he doesn't know how to move forward. He doesn't know where to go, and he feels a weakness inside him that strangely does not feel like his own.

His confession of Kelly's death doesn't feel like it has really changed him. It hasn't given him what he's been looking for. He's still anxious in his own skin, and something still doesn't fit. He gains no redemption. Guilt hovers around him like a ghost, but it does not completely sink in.

He's killed this girl and within the core of his acceptance, he can't see the next step. He can't even move through the space between – from the moment of revelation to the beginning of atonement.

It's beyond his reach, and Nathan doesn't fee like he can ever really touch it. His only hope is Peter.

He closes his eyes and slips his phone in his pocket. He looks out the window of his car and decides to take a short walk to collect his thoughts before driving back home.

Then, when he gets home that night, he'll call Peter and apologize. Hopefully, his brother will still forgive him enough to come over.

Nathan can't think of anyone else he needs more tonight. He just wishes he could get this feeling out of his bones, the feeling that the world is rejecting him, and that his time on this earth is long overdue.

END


End file.
